


A Different Sort of Treasure

by GizmoTrinket



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alpha Sherlock Holmes, Anal Sex, Anthropomorphic, Blow Jobs, Bonding, Don't copy to another site, Dragon Sherlock Holmes, Dubious Consent, Knight John Watson, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Minor Character Death, Omega John Watson, Possessive Sherlock, Rimming, anime style blood pressure, modern mixed with fantasy, previous john watson/james sholto
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-01
Updated: 2019-03-31
Packaged: 2019-11-07 06:53:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 12,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17955680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GizmoTrinket/pseuds/GizmoTrinket
Summary: A knight who has lost his purpose finds a dragon who determined to stay single.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this comic](https://twitter.com/ledung26995/status/1080167215217893376).
> 
> Special thanks to my beta [SherlocksSister](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SherlocksSister). Go check out one of her 20 fics!

“Watson, stay behind us, we’ll need you if this all goes south.”

John nodded. He checked his med pack. Reassured that everything was as it should be he removed his sword from its scabbard.

The other knights pulled out their swords as well. They nodded to each other and crept, as quietly as they could in their armour, around the corner.

John didn’t hear anything. Was the dragon not home?

He peeked his head around the corner just in time to see a great red dragon pulling up to his full height, his belly glowing orange.

John yelled to take cover and dashed back behind his corner.

He could hear the devastating roar of dragon fire. His armour warmed and his cheek burned from the heat.

“No!” he cried. His team was out there, his alpha was out there. There hadn’t been many places to hide. Some of their men were certainly dead.

Now was the opportune chance to strike. It took a lot for a dragon to use their breath weapon and they couldn’t use it again for at least thirty seconds.

John yelled a rallying cry as he rounded the corner, sword out and ready.

The dragon wasn’t moving slowly or acting dazed in any way but John didn’t let that deter him. He slid under a clawed hand (the best way to avoid being eaten was to get in close). He swung his sword with all his might but it just bounced off the scales.

Now John could see that their information on the dragon had been wrong. The dragon had used some of his treasure to make himself armour. His scales were covered in silver. John swung again, trying to hit the same place. The sword bounced uselessly.

It wasn’t silver. It was mithril.

To kill this dragon John would have to attack its face. A near impossible feat without a bow and arrow. The dragon was huge.

John had been foolish to not demand a bow. He was a crack shot, but they’d thought that the bow would get in the way of John pulling the injured to safety. 

The dragon laughed at John’s pitiful attempts to harm him.

“Oh, little knight, your pathetic sword is useless against me. What will you do now?”

The dragon picked up one of the knights. The helmeted head lolled at the shoulders and John knew the man was dead.

With one giant claw, the dragon flicked off the helmet before biting off the knight’s head.

“You humans cook so nicely in your little metal suits.”

“Shut up!” John yelled. He felt helpless and watched as the dragon picked up another knight.

This one was alive, and he screamed when the dragon lifted him from the ground. He was covered in burns when the dragon removed his helmet.

“Leave him alone!” John shouted. He swung his sword repeatedly and when the dragon twitched his tail in irritation, John was able to hit the top of it. He was splattered with blood and the dragon roared in pain. He dropped his victim. John heard the knight scream distantly as the great lizard turned on John.

The dragon’s face came down to John and he froze in fear, pinned by the golden gaze.

“Ahhhh!” One of the knights charged forward.

John turned and watched as James, Major Sholto, his alpha, dove straight into the monster’s mouth. 

Their eyes met, John’s wide with horror, James’s dark with apology and determination. In them, John saw their meeting; John being assigned to James’s team, their secret romance hidden until James went into an unexpected rut. John sneaking away and bonding with him. 

John saw the dragon bite down and shake his head before hissing and roaring. James had jumped straight down the beast’s throat with his sword drawn. The outside of the dragon might be armoured but the inside of him wasn’t. James was doing serious damage to internal organs. It was their only chance to kill the dragon and the best way for their group to survive. John couldn’t carry the injured off the field with a dragon after him. But there was no way out except the way he went down.

The beast’s belly started to glow and John could feel the heat coming off it.

“No!” He beat his sword against the dragon’s throat viciously.

The dragon reared up and spit fire up before spinning and spraying about the cave. John was close enough to not get hit by the fire but he was nearly trampled by the dragon’s hands and feet. He tried to dodge without getting in range of the breath weapon but was knocked down. He rolled to avoid being squished but got caught by a giant claw.

He cried out as it tore through his shoulder.

But the pain of that was nothing compared to the burning in his veins. His body convulsed as his bond broke.

The ground shook as the dragon fell backwards, claw pulling up and out of John.

John hardly noticed as darkness overtook him.

***

“You’re not really suited to dragon fighting anymore,” the colonel said. He jutted his chin out at John’s arm.

John moved it so it was under the desk. His left arm, his sword hand, had an intermittent tremor.

“It’s fine when I’m in training,” John said.

“It’s not just that,” Moran said. “You don’t have an alpha anymore. What happens if you go into heat during a mission?”

“I’m on suppressants,” John said. He was starting to get upset.

“Watson, you know I respect you as a doctor...” Moran said and John had to bite his tongue. Colonel Moran was a sexist bastard. He respected John as a doctor but not as a soldier.

“...but,” Moran continued, oblivious to John’s ire, “we can’t have you back in the field.”

John opened his mouth to argue but Moran cut him off. “For christsakes, Watson, you have a cane. What do you want from me?”

That, John couldn’t argue with. He did have a cane and no one could find anything wrong with his leg. It hurt but it hadn’t been injured. John knew the doctors and healers suspicions were right, it was all in his head. He was positive if he could just get back on a team he wouldn’t have need of his cane anymore.

“Why don’t you just find yourself a nice alpha and settle down? With your history, it wouldn’t be difficult to join a medical practice or you could even start your own. Plus, you’re getting older. It’s easier to find an alpha now, while you’re still fertile.”

John growled low in his throat.

“No, I think it’s best you never go near another dragon again.” Moran dismissed him and John did his best not to lose his temper on his way out.

“Never go near another dragon,” John muttered to himself when he was on the street. “We’ll see about that.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta provided by [SherlocksSister](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SherlocksSister). Go check out her fics! :D

John settled in a little village that was rumoured to have dragon problems. The dragon wasn’t killing people or setting the village on fire so the knights weren’t dispatched. A small village like this would have been a low priority even if the dragon was terrorizing it.

The village had a healer already but Sarah Sawyer was happy to have a doctor to help. Healers made potions and worked magic but weren’t skilled at solving more “mundane” health problems. He took nights and weekends and she took days. Nights were rumoured to be when the dragon came by.

After a few weeks, John was bored. 

Sarah had taken an interest in him personally. He didn’t have anything against female alphas and he was flattered, but he was broken and as nice as she was she always managed to make things awkward. Yes, he had a cane but she didn’t need to reference it every time he fell behind. And she didn’t need to get things off shelves for him; if he needed help he would’ve asked.  He preferred his alphas to be strong and possessive. He didn’t need a gentle hand babying him, he liked a powerful coupling that he felt for days after. Sarah couldn’t give him that.

When he was with the knights he would save limbs, heal dragon fire burns, neutralize poisons and acid. Here he fixed sprains, put ointment on cooking burns, treated snake bites and the sniffles. But, mostly, he sat and stared at the wall. He had a bell installed that rang in the room they’d given him in the clinic so he could sleep during his shifts and still be awake during the day to buy food and whatnot.

It turned out it didn’t matter when he got to bed, he couldn’t sleep. He had nightmares of the day he lost his alpha. Sometimes, when the night was darkest, he wished that Murry hadn’t pulled him out of that hoard, hadn’t stopped the bleeding, hadn’t saved his life.

But when the sun came up he dried his eyes and got on with it. He ate when he remembered he needed to, showered when he had to and kept his room tidy. The last was easy to do since he never bought anything to clutter it up with.

He didn’t go to the pub, he didn’t linger when alphas approached him, he didn’t interact more than he had to to get information on the dragon (of which there was nothing new). He felt like he’d been here for ages and there wasn’t any information beyond: the dragon comes at night and steals livestock. John could feel the drain playing at being normal was having on him. He was meant to be out there on the hunt, not cooped up playing country doctor.

Just as he was about ready to give up and move on, the sirens went off. 

John rushed out of the clinic. The sirens were a warning system, a dragon had been spotted. John looked to the sky but didn’t see anything. He rushed back in and pulled on his old armour. He took his sword and his shield and abandoned his post. People were running from one end of town so John ran to it, figuring that’s where the dragon was.

He was right. When he passed the last farmstead he saw a great black dragon flying away with a cow. John ran, following it. It was hard to carry something that heavy and fly at the same time, about as hard as it was to run overland in armour. John pushed himself past his limit, feeling the thrill of the chase. He felt alive.

Still, he was a man, not a dragon, and too soon the black beast got smaller and smaller against the stars until eventually, it disappeared. 

John stopped then and bent over, breathing heavily. He turned to look over his shoulder, wondering just how long it’d take him to walk back to town, and realized he couldn’t see the town. He spun, looking in all directions. Nothing. He hadn’t checked the stars and he had no idea if the town was to the South, East, North, West… he couldn’t see much at all in the dark. It wasn’t a new moon but it wasn’t full either. A sliver didn’t illuminate enough for John to find his way home. He could follow his own tracks if only he could see them.

Knowing better than to wander around and get himself more lost, John sat down. He looked up and watched the stars. There were so many out away from the lights, he didn’t think he’d ever seen so many. He thought he might come out here on a new moon and look at them.

John laid on his back and rested his head on his forearms. 

He was half asleep when he heard a great rushing sound. He opened his eyes to see a dragon flying overhead. He knew he should run and follow the dragon back to town, the beast was probably going to get another snack from the cattle there. Instead, he started walking in the direction the dragon had flown from. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates every other day.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to my beta [SherlocksSister](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SherlocksSister) without whom we'd have no idea what dragon Sherlock actually looks like. Go check out her fics! :D

John heard the sound of wings beating before feeling the air disturbed over his head. He looked up and saw the black dragon carrying another cow overhead. John jogged, keeping the white cow in sight as long as possible. It didn’t seem like the dragon was trying to hide its lair from him.

It was possibly overconfident--not seeing him as a threat, maybe the nest was hard for a human to climb up to and it thought it was safe or--John felt a shiver--it was about to go into heat and didn’t care if humans came because they’d be two dragons and that was plenty to overrun a group of knights.

Once John lost sight he only walked a minute before stopping and waiting for the dragon to come back. It did, much quicker this time. John realized that the hoard was close to the town. There weren’t many towns nearby so the dragon must have just moved in for the town attacks to be so infrequent. Perhaps it hunted in the forest to the north. The dragon wasn’t too large, John knew it was no longer a fledgeling but it was still young. 

A young dragon was an inexperienced dragon. John would take any advantage he could get. Black dragons weren’t particularly common, they were feared for their acid cone attacks. John wished he had his helmet.

Perhaps he was being foolish, running off to fight a dragon on his own. Maybe he’d just do some reconnaissance and come back with the proper equipment. 

John nodded to himself. He’d just peek in.

The sky started to lighten and John saw the dragon coming from the tree-covered mountains. He walked until he hit the gravel at the base. He could see several caves. He sat and waited, watching the sun rise over the forest. 

The dragon came back and landed on the lip to the uppermost cave. John started to climb, praying the other smaller caves weren’t occupied by  fledgelings or bears. If he got into a fight he didn’t want to be exhausted from other battles.

Thankfully the occupants of the other caves didn’t come out after him. 

He stood on the edge of the cave he’d seen the dragon fly into and took a deep breath.

The air didn’t reek of death and decay like most dragon nests. It smelt spicy and made his mouth water. He figured the hoard must be in the back and there was no breeze in the cave to send the other rancid smells out.

He put his hand on his sword and stepped in, moving deeper when he realized he didn’t need to wait until his eyes had adjusted. Holes in the top of the cave let light in. He stayed out of the little stream running through stalagmites. On the opposite side of the cave were the cattle, surprisingly still alive. 

There were many stalagmites and stalactites to hide behind and John moved carefully, trying not to make a sound.

He moved around a particularly large batch that had become a column and found himself face to face with the beast.

It leaned back before moving to get a better look, it’s belly glowing green with acid.

It was at least nine meters tall, wing spread at least three times that. Black with multicoloured eyes and a spot of red on the edge of one wing. 

John felt a wave of fear. The dragon wasn’t as small as he’d thought and now it had seen him. He had no tactical advantage. In fact, he thought this might be the rarest form of the black dragon, the type that had acidic blood.

Even if the dragon didn’t have acidic blood--and John was ninety-eight percent sure it did--he had armoured himself. John wasn’t sure what metal the dragon had used to cover himself, but it was black, adding a shimmer to the dragon that the matte creatures didn’t normally have. The metal was worked intricately and with great skill, so one could still see the green glow when he readied his breath weapon, little blue gems adorned the armour around his neck. His horns and claws were adorned with silver or possibly mithril. Silver chains with white gems swung from these with every movement.

John didn’t need knight training to know that this dragon came from an ancient and important family.

He was doomed.

He shook himself out of his thoughts as the dragon breathed in.

John took a deep breath himself. The smell of death was minimal and the spicy scent was strong and had a citrus tang to it. He swallowed thickly. He hadn’t taken his suppressant last night. It was at that moment  John realized the dragon was an alpha. 

The dragon started to shrink and waves of heat created a breeze. His wings swept back dramatically before shrinking. John drew his sword and held it at the dragon’s neck. The dragon didn’t go full human, either because he was too young to take that form, or because he was aware that John was a threat, John didn’t know. His hands were claws and scales ran up along his naked flanks all the way up his neck. The horns stayed and the decoration shrunk with them. They were surrounded by a shock of curly black hair. 

John glanced down to see another black line of scales against pale skin around his, by human measurement, large alpha cock.

The dragon’s tail twitched and John looked back up.

Blue/gold/green/silver eyes met his.

“You are omega,” the naked dragon said with a curled lip and furrowed brow.

John felt moisture prick at his entrance.

He didn’t answer. He could barely think. A fog had gathered in his mind. He did his best to hold his ground. 

_ Wait for an opening, then attack,  _ he told himself.

The dragon knocked his sword away and nosed along his neck, breathing deeply. John hissed out a breath, sure that the dragon was going to bite and tear out his throat.

Instead, the dragon used his claw to tear John’s armour and sniffed his bonding glands.

John froze. He’d never heard of this happening before. 

“Mine,” the dragon rumbled in a deep baritone.

Then he bit John’s bonding gland.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, huge thanks to [SherlocksSister](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SherlocksSister) for the beta. Send her a thanks by reading her fics

“Sherlock, I don’t think I need to tell you that you’re going into a rut,” Mycroft.

No, Sherlock thought, Mycroft didn’t. Even if he’d never gone into a rut before the signs would be obvious. 

“You need an omega,” Mycroft said.

For once Sherlock agreed. He’d gone through two ruts so far, both without one. He’d been miserable but it was better than being attached. He had no need for a bondmate--as much as he’d wanted one when he was out of his head--and he was happier alone. Still, dragons couldn’t go through heats alone all the time. He was going to go out of his mind and the ruts would get worse and worse. He didn’t need to bond, he just needed an omega.

“I’ve sent out feelers to the major families, the green dragon clan seemed particularly interested.”

Sherlock growled. Interfering git. He was determined to see Sherlock bonded. As a beta himself, he had very little chance of continuing the family line. Their parents wanted grandwhelps and having some would secure their place on the council. 

“The first omega that answers the call I suggest you bond with.”

“I’m not bonding!” Sherlock argued. He’d met all the dragon omega on this continent and none of them were worthy of his attention. That, combined with their feted odour that was their omega scent was more than enough to keep him single.

Mycroft didn’t argue. He just gave Sherlock a look that said he was being a child and flew North to his nest.

Sherlock watched the grey-ish form of his brother fade into the horizon. He was a black dragon too, but he’d coated the edge of his scales in mythril so he looked a bit pinstriped when you got close. He was off to his respectable hoard of gold, gems, and council paperwork. He also had a secret stash of umbrellas which it gave Sherlock no small amount of pleasure to tease him about.

When Sherlock was sure Mycroft wouldn’t notice and took off to one of his bolt holes. He hated leaving his hoard unguarded but it was worth it to ride out his rut alone and not have to bond.

***

He chose a little cave in the middle of nowhere. He came here sometimes, to think, or hide from Mycroft. So far it had been undiscovered and there was a little human town not far away that provided food. He’d avoided the knights by leaving the villagers alone. No one wanted to risk their lives to fight a dragon who only occasionally stole livestock.

Sherlock tidied his nest before flying off to get a stockpile of food. He wasn’t a large dragon so he had a little trouble flying back and forth with a cow. Still, it was better than stealing sheep. He hated getting the wool out from between his teeth.

It wasn’t until he was bringing back the second cow that he saw that knight. He was following Sherlock. Sherlock didn’t deviate, he could deduce that the human was alone and a lone human was no threat. 

He figured three cows should be enough, his ruts usually only lasted three days, and he was thankful when he had them. He was tired from flying with that extra weight, even over such a short distance it took a lot out of him. He was closer to rut than he’d thought.

The cattle were corralled in a little pen made out of a circle of stalagmites. 

It was then that the knight showed up. He had his shield out but not his sword yet. He must have assumed that the cave was deeper as most nests were.

Sherlock raised himself to his full height and looked down at the creature. He was short, even for a human. 

The knight’s expression of surprise was quickly replaced by determination, he was brave. Sherlock took a deep breath, there was something about his scent.

Oh.

Sherlock transformed into his human form (or as close to human as he ever managed to get. He was still too young to look exactly like a human. His tail, horns and some of his scales stuck around) and stepped into the knight’s space.

It was then that the knight drew his sword. He held the metal to Sherlock’s scaly neck and Sherlock ignored it. He didn’t feel in danger.

He felt angry.

“You are omega,” Sherlock said.

His instincts fought with his rational mind. The rut came on fast with an unbonded omega so close. 

The knight took a step back and moved his sword into a defensive position.

A wave of desire overtook Sherlock. The knight was omega, compatible despite their races. In fact, Sherlock was sure he’d never smelt anyone so delicious. Metal, oil and vanilla.

Sherlock shook his head, trying to clear it. It was no use. The rut was upon him. The desire to mate and claim too strong. 

He stepped forward and knocked the sword to the side. He dragged his nose up the omega’s neck, inhaling and feeling his mouth water. He took a claw and tore through the armour on the knight’s shoulder away like it was tissue paper.

“Mine,” Sherlock said, before biting down.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is late, my computer is trying to die. :(
> 
> As always, thanks to [SherlocksSister](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SherlocksSister) for the beta

Sherlock watched, horrified. 

His new mate was writhing on the ground. It wasn’t the good sort of writhing either, he wasn’t writhing in pleasure or in the throes of a sudden heat brought on by the bonding bite. 

He was in agony.

Had Sherlock done something wrong? Had they been incompatible after all? Was there something special he needed to do before he bit a bonding gland? He didn’t know, he had deleted bonding. Even if he hadn’t he’d never learned about interspecies bonding. 

Distantly, Sherlock remembered that he didn’t want a mate, but that was before he had smelt this omega.

The human looked uncomfortable and Sherlock was determined to help his mate through this. Sherlock sliced through the other part of his mate’s armour and peeled it off him. He put his mate in the nest where he curled up into a ball.

Sherlock frowned down at him. He was sweating profusely and he still looked like he was in incredible pain but now it looked like the symptoms of heat were coming on. 

Sherlock took that for a good sign and took the opportunity to examine his mate’s armour. It was acid resistant and helped him keep cool against fire. But it was worthless against claws. He decided he would make new armour for his mate.

The short-lived lucidity started to end. His mate’s heat was ramping up, he was almost ready.

Sherlock breathed deep and his mouth watered. He dropped to four legs and walked circles around his mate.

Soon.

Captured by a sudden need to secure the nest Sherlock transformed into a dragon. He went outside and, with his tail, he swept rocks into the cave’s entrance. It would be nearly impossible to cross them without making a sound. Next, Sherlock sprayed acid at the base of large trees. After they’d fallen he’d taken them and built a makeshift wall over the entrance. It wouldn’t keep out humans, but it would inconvenience any animals that might drift over looking for a resting place, causing them to rest in one of the other caves on the mountainside.

“Uuuugnnnnn,” his mate whimpered.

Sherlock flew to him. 

He was shaking as if he were freezing but his cheeks were flushed. He was pawing uselessly at what clothing he was still wearing.

His heat was here.

Sherlock turned back into a human, stretching himself more than he ever had before. He had human hands but couldn’t get rid of all his scales, nor the spines down his back and his tail.

He removed the human’s clothes. He had a bite on the shoulder opposite Sherlock’s bite. He’d been claimed before. Sherlock snarled at the thought. Then he remembered that his mate was unbonded when they met. His mate was dead. Of course, this omega had been bonded before. He was brave, facing a dragon alone. Beautiful, he was sunlight on a summer’s day. Strong. Sherlock saw the injury where he’d been pierced by another dragon’s claw. It might be an ugly wound to some but to him, it was a sign that he’d survived fierce attacks and come out alive. Even the previous claiming bite was a sign of the omega’s strength, he’d survived the death of his mate.

The smell of metal, oil and vanilla intensified. Sherlock inhaled greedily. He’d never smelt metal like this. It wasn’t gold or silver, nothing so common. It wasn’t even mithril. It was rarer, stronger, more precious. 

“Mine,” Sherlock snarled.

He’d never felt the pull that treasure had for other dragons. Of course, he had treasure in his hoard, he was a dragon after all, but he also had more interesting things. He experimented with elements and created things, unlike other dragons. His hoard was haphazard at best and he was suddenly worried that his mate would find it inadequate. 

This human, his mate, would be his crown jewel no matter how large his hoard. 

“What’s your name?” Sherlock asked.

The omega blinked blearily up at him. “Mm?”

“Name,” Sherlock demanded. When the human flinched Sherlock realized he was being rude. “I’m Sherlock,” he said, pointing at his chest. It would have been better if he’d done this before triggering a heat. He’d gone about this all wrong. 

“Sherrrllllock,” the omega said, slurring his words.

“Yes,” Sherlock said. He suddenly realized that not only had he gone about everything all wrong. He hadn’t asked the omega if he wanted to be courted. He’d just taken. He thought himself above those other dragons who just took without thought and never made anything. But he wasn’t. As soon as he was faced with something he coveted he took without thought.

His mate just might kill him when this was all over, and Sherlock figured he’d deserve it.

“John,” the omega said, pointing at his chest.

“John,” Sherlock repeated. He lit up. His omega, John, was brilliant. Even in the throes of heat he was still thinking.

Then John rolled over, presenting, and all Sherlock’s thoughts scattered.

“Mine!”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to [SherlocksSister](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SherlocksSister) for the beta <3

Fire burned through John’s veins. He was in agony. Lost in a sea of pain, John didn’t know anything happening outside.

When he finally came to, he found himself naked in the middle of a dragon nest. It wasn’t a hoard of precious metals and gems. It was a mat of straw, wool and feathers. 

John felt wretched, not in pain anymore, he was deep in the throes of heat. He smelt his alpha. He needed his alpha. Distantly he worried that a dragon was his alpha, how exactly would this work?

The scent intensified and John heard his alpha say, “Mine.” John didn’t hear or smell anyone else. The possessive word made blood flow south and pool between John’s legs. It had been a long time since John had heard that. Too long.

“What’s your name?” the alpha asked.

John blinked up at him. Why did the alpha care? Here he was, an omega in heat, him an alpha in rut. Why did they need to talk?

“Name,” the alpha demanded. 

John flinched. He’d displeased the alpha. Would he react violently?

The alpha pointed at his chest. “Sherlock,” he said.

“Sherrrllllock,” John said, trying the name on his tongue. It was unusual, as expected from a dragon, but it seemed to suit him.

The dragon’s, Sherlock’s, eyes softened and John noticed he was even more human than the last time he’d seen him, no claws and fewer scales. He had a fierce intelligence and John didn’t want to disappoint him.

“John,” John said, pointing at his own chest.

Sherlock smiled and his scent told John he was pleased. John decided they’d talked long enough. His Sherlock was powerful, beautiful, possessive, all traits John liked in an alpha. He wouldn’t complete the bonding, he needed to get to know Sherlock better first, but he was more than willing to go through a heat with him. Especially if he stayed in his human form.

John rolled over and got to his knees. He was done talking. His suppressants had failed because of the bite, but they’d work as contraceptives--that is, if humans and dragons could produce offspring together. 

“Mine!” Sherlock said and John heard the rustling of the nest as Sherlock dropped to his knees. John felt his hot breath on his entrance before he felt his tongue, lapping up the slick down his thighs.

John twitched, it tickled when Sherlock’s tongue rucked up the hair on the inside of his sensitive thighs. Sherlock made obscene slurping noises and groaned deep, low in his throat. Long-fingered hands grasped John’s buttocks and pulled this cheeks apart. John cried out as Sherlock’s tongue teased his hole, lapping long strokes over it. John pushed back into the sensation, wanting to be breached.

“Shhh,” Sherlock said, pulling back and moving a hand to the small of John’s back.

John peeked back over his shoulder to see Sherlock ineffectively wiping clear slick from his mouth. There was so much it dripped from his chin. There was fire in his mercury eyes. His large erection bobbed proudly as he licked the slick from his forearm. There was a clear bead of fluid at the tip.

John moaned at the sight and dropped to his elbows, resting his head on his forearm. Usually, his alpha partners didn’t eat him out. His slick especially had a metallic taste most found unappealing at best.

Sherlock made a pleased noise and John felt hands grip his hips tightly. There was warm pressure near his hole and John fought against Sherlock’s grip, trying to push himself back into it. Sherlock held him still.

“Please,” John begged.

A smaller pressure built on is hole before sinking in. A finger, with blunt nails instead of claws. John was just admiring how human Sherlock could be when a scaled tail wrapped around one of his thighs and pulled his legs further apart.

John arched his back when he felt another finger breach him. The digits scissored.

“Please,” John begged again. He was in heat, he was ready.

The digits searched and found his prostate. He cried out in ecstasy. 

“Yesss,” Sherlock hissed. The fingers withdrew and were replaced by that large blunt heat once more.

The pressure built and built until John’s hole gave way and the tip of Sherlock’s cock slid home.

Both John and Sherlock cried out. John shivered and tried to push back. 

“More,” he begged. “Move.”

“Yes,” Sherlock said. He ran his hand up and down John’s flank before reaching down.

“Ah! Yes!” John cried as Sherlock stroked his cock. He’d never been touched there by another. Omegas didn’t need a cock and could orgasm without attention there. Most people ignored them and some cultures had them removed or locked away. All John’s life he’d just bent over and was taken from behind. John sometimes stoked himself, Sholto and the other alphas he’d spent heats with didn’t care but didn’t do it themselves.

It was hedonistic. 

It was brilliant.

“Yes, yes, yes!” John chanted as Sherlock started moving his hips to match his pulls.

He could feel Sherlock’s knot catching on his rim.

“Yes, please, yes!” John said, moving back, trying to get Sherlock to knot him.

Then, all of a sudden, John came. It was a different orgasm than he was used to. Instead of liquid coming from his hole, it came from his cock. John almost fell forward it was so intense, only Sherlock’s hand on his hip stopped him.

He surfaced from the heat just long enough to wonder if dragons were different from humans in that regard. If they didn’t care about propriety, if they appreciated all aspects of omega pleasure, if heats and ruts were something to be enjoyed by both parties equally. That wasn’t to say that the alphas of his life neglected him, but he came when he was knotted no matter what.

“What was that?” John wondered aloud. Even when he’d masturbated he’d been more focused on his arse than his cock.

“Not good?” Sherlock asked. He stopped moving entirely and he held John, but not possessively.

“No,” John said quickly, “ _ very _ good.” He wanted Sherlock to do that again. Definitely didn’t want to discourage him.

“Good,” Sherlock rumbled. He started moving again, when he reached for John’s cock John found he was over sensitive.

John pushed Sherlock’s hand away. 

“Sensitive,” he said. 

Sherlock grunted an acknowledgement and moved his hand to John’s other hip.

The knot kept catching on John’s rim and the pleasure he was feeling was cresting. He could come the other way any time now.

“Yes, knot me,” John said. He needed it.

Sherlock made a strangled noise at John’s words and he gripped John’s hips hard before thrusting in.

The knot entered and swelled. God but Sherlock was big. John angled his hips as the knot finished swelling and he came hard.

John cried out, his cock filling with blood again and Sherlock reached around to John’s front. He pulled on John’s erection and John screamed as he came again. 

He’d never had sex like this before.

He felt Sherlock come inside him again and he sighed happily. 

This was going to be a  _ very _ good heat.

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, my computer crapped out so now I've got a new one and you've got a late chapter. sorry
> 
> As always, huge thanks to [SherlocksSister](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SherlocksSister/pseuds/SherlocksSister) for the beta.

The fog of lust and need cleared after Sherlock’s orgasm. He pulled back, testing the seal, and John grunted a wordless complaint so Sherlock desisted. He didn’t want to hurt his John but he was so curious. He started a mental clock, he wanted to see how long they’d be like this and if it was longer than his knot lasted when he was alone.

“Why me?” John asked, apropos of nothing.

“Your smell,” Sherlock said. “I’ve never smelt anything like it.”

John seemed to think this over before nodding, Sherlock felt a thrill that John understood. He must smell good to him too. 

“Are you going to eat me, after?”

Sherlock frowned. He hadn’t really thought about it. It was the easiest answer, he had no desire to have children, therefore, it shouldn’t matter if he ate his mate. John was a human, humans were food. Still, something in him baulked at the idea. In fact, he was outraged at the mere thought.

“No!” he shouted, making John flinch.

No, he wouldn’t eat John, no one would. John would come live with him in his hoard. Stay in his sight, forever. 

Sherlock plastered himself around John and nibbled at his neck.  _ Mine. _

John chuckled. “Not really making your point,” he said.

“Mm,” Sherlock hummed. He sucked a mark into John’s skin. He wasn’t eating. He was tasting. Savouring.

He wondered if he should tell John everything. All that he’d deduced about him and why he was so interested. John shifted, the knot held firm and Sherlock realized that John couldn’t go anywhere. Plus he was in heat, he wouldn’t leave. His addled state might even soften him to Sherlock. 

“You’re brave,” Sherlock said. “Going after a dragon alone. Stupid, but brave.”

John chuckled. “Thanks?” he turned the end of the word up in a question. Sherlock had meant it as a compliment but he saw now how it could be taken as an insult.

“You’re strong,” Sherlock said next. 

“Not really,” John said.

Sherlock frowned at him though he couldn’t see. “Why do you say that?”

“I’m a human, for one,” John said. At Sherlock’s snort, he continued, “I have a cane.”

“What cane?” Sherlock asked. He would have seen one for sure when he came in, there wasn’t one. Nor was John using his sword or scabbard as one.

“My… oh,” John gasped quietly.

“Strong,” Sherlock reiterated. “You were pierced by a dragon, mated, and yet you’re here, alive and well.”

“How’d you know?” John asked. 

“Obvious. Your armour had been patched where your scar is and while it would protect you from many things it is clearly useless against dragon claws.” 

“My mate?” John asked. His voice was strong but there was a tightness in it. 

“Claiming bites only scar when the bonding is complete. But you didn’t smell mated, there was a tinge in your scent that is almost clear, the bond broke a while ago but you’re still sad, your mate died. You cared for them and miss them but you have moved on and occupy your time with things other than thoughts of them. That takes a different sort of strength, a rarer sort.” Sherlock managed to keep his temper at John’s previous bonding out of his voice but only just.

“That's…” John trailed off and Sherlock stiffened, waiting for the blow, to be called a freak or worse. “...amazing,” John finished.

Sherlock blinked in surprise. “Really?”

“O f  _ course _ it was. It was extraordinary; it was quite extraordinary.”

That wasn’t what everyone normally said. Dragons, humans, every sentient creature he’d ever deduced, had only harsh words for him. Even Mycroft, who taught him deductions only criticized him and told him what he missed.

“That’s not what people normally say,” Sherlock said. He felt the need to say something before John changed his mind, but nothing better came to him.

“What do people normally say?” John asked.

“Piss off,” Sherlock said.

They laughed together and the laughter shook them apart. Sherlock found he was disappointed that they were separate. He’d lost track of the time when John had complimented him. The heat would come back soon enough, he reminded himself. Then they’d be together again.

Sherlock found himself wishing the heat would never end.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Playing catch-up so I post on even days again :)
> 
> Beta provided by [SherlocksSister](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SherlocksSister/pseuds/SherlocksSister)
> 
> Script reference: [arianedevere](https://arianedevere.livejournal.com/43794.html)

“Why me?” John asked. He’d been wondering this since Sherlock bit him. He was a human, what on earth did a dragon want from him?

“Your smell,” Sherlock said. “I’ve never smelt anything like it.”

That made sense, if his scent was even close to the delicious way Sherlock smelt to him the call to mate must have overwhelmed his senses.

“Are you going to eat me, after?” John asked. He wasn’t going to be carrying the dragon’s young, after all. Not even if such a thing were possible. The suppressants would see to that.

The dragon went still behind him. John held his breath as he waited.

“No!” Sherlock shouted, making John flinch.

John didn’t know what to make of that. He thought it was a bit of an overreaction. He worried he’d offended the dragon. But, he didn’t know how. He was a dragon and dragons ate people.

Sherlock plastered himself around John and nibbled at his neck. 

John chuckled despite himself. The dragon was clearly not mad at him. “Not really making your point,” he said, teasing him.

“Mm,” Sherlock hummed. He sucked a mark into John’s skin. 

John felt a zing go down his spine.  _ Dangerous. _

“You’re brave,” Sherlock said. “Going after a dragon alone. Stupid, but brave.”

John chuckled. “Thanks?” he turned the end of the word up in a question. He wasn’t sure if that was an insult or a compliment. 

Sherlock didn’t elaborate. He just said, “You’re strong.”

“Not really,” John said. He thought he’d felt uncomfortable when he asked the dragon if he’d eat him. That was nothing compared to how John felt now.

“Why do you say that?” Sherlock asked. 

“I’m a human, for one,” John said. At Sherlock’s snort, he continued, “I have a cane.”

“What cane?” 

“My… oh,” John gasped quietly. He’d left his cane behind when he’d run after the dragon. He hadn’t even thought about it until now.

“Strong,” Sherlock reiterated. “You were pierced by a dragon, mated, and yet you’re here, alive and well.”

“How’d you know?” John asked. 

“Obvious. Your armour had been patched where your scar is and while it would protect you from many things it is clearly useless against dragon claws.” 

“My mate?” John asked. Thinking of James still made John swallow thickly. He’d loved his mate.

“Claiming bites only scar when the bonding is complete. But you didn’t smell mated, there was a tinge in your scent that is almost clear, the bond broke a while ago but you’re still sad, your mate died. You cared for them and miss them but you have moved on and occupy your time with things other than thoughts of them. That takes a different sort of strength, a rarer sort.” 

“That's…” John trailed off. He felt embarrassed so he held in the compliment. He’d never heard of a dragon, or anyone for that matter, being able to know things with one glance. It seemed obvious once he explained it but who would have noticed such things to begin with? 

Sherlock was tense behind him, John could see the tendons sticking out in his fingers which were curled into claws, gripping John’s arms. Did he truly not know how incredible he was?

“...amazing,” John finished.

“Really?” Sherlock’s voice held a note of surprise. He clearly didn’t believe John.

“O f  _ course _ it was. It was extraordinary; it was quite extraordinary,” John said. He willed Sherlock to believe him.

“That’s not what people normally say.”

Curious, John asked, “What do people normally say?” How could they say anything else? It was incredible--an adjective John wished he’d remembered a few seconds ago. How embarrassing, he couldn’t even think properly around this alpha. 

“Piss off,” Sherlock said.

They laughed together and John found himself giggling in a way he hadn’t since he was a child. Sherlock’s knot deflated and he slipped free. John mourned the loss.

“This is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever done,” John said. He was here, spending his heat with a dragon he’d come to kill and he was in danger of falling in love with him.

“And you were a dragonslayer,” Sherlock said, chuckling.

John didn’t have anything to say to that. Sherlock spoke in the past tense as if he wasn’t a knight anymore. As if his days of dragon-slaying were behind him.

Maybe they were.

Sherlock stood and stretched and John admired his body. He was too thin for a human, all long lean lines of sinewy muscles. John found himself licking his lips. 

“Are you hungry? Thirsty?” Sherlock asked.

“Yes, to both,” John said. 

Waves of heat filled the cave and Sherlock was a dragon once more. He bit the head off a cow and dragged the headless corpse into John’s view. Then he used his claws to butcher the beast and handed John a leg. John collapsed under the weight and groaned as he was pinned.

Sherlock chuckled, his deep baritone impossibly lower, it rumbled in the cave. 

John shivered as he felt the danger again. Sherlock could kill him on a whim. He was more dangerous than any of the dragons John had ever faced before.

Sherlock moved the meat to the side and presented John with water in a crude clay bowl. John drank and set it aside.

With a loud crunch, Sherlock bit another leg off the cow. As he chewed he motioned with his head at John to eat his.

“I shouldn’t eat this raw,” John said. “Nevermind the hide.”

Sherlock rolled his eyes and bit his forearm. Blood dripped from the wound, and where it hit the ground it sizzled. John scrambled backwards, scared of getting hit by the acidic blood. Sherlock held his wound over John’s meat. The hide dissolved.

“Cool!” John said, amazed that Sherlock was one of those infamous dragons and that he’d thought to use his acid that way.

Sherlock’s rumbling chuckles filled the cave and John looked up to see his long tongue lapping at his wound. He was somehow smiling despite his form. His incredible eyes, unusual even for dragons, were lit with mirth.

John smiled up at him, knowing that Sherlock wasn’t laughing at him, he was just happy.

Then, much to John’s surprise, Sherlock turned human and used some of the straw bedding and limbs from the trees blocking the entrance to start a fire. He did it the human way. 

Sherlock turned back into the dragon and cooked strips of the meat in his claws, holding them out to John as soon as they were cooked.

John watched with an open mouth before he accepted the food.

A thought occurred to John and he asked it, no longer worried that he was going to offend Sherlock. 

“Is your blood acidic in your human form?”

“Yessss,” Sherlock said, the s lengthened.

John frowned. He couldn’t bite Sherlock back. They couldn’t bond. John hadn’t realized that he wanted to bond until just then. 

What did it matter? John wondered. He couldn’t live with a dragon, sitting on a pile of gold for the rest of his life. Sherlock wouldn’t want to bond with someone who would only live a blink of an eye in his lifespan. Especially a dragon of his bloodline. Sherlock was basically immortal. He took naps that were longer than John’s life.

John ate his fill and drank some more water. He picked at his food as he felt his the next wave of heat build. 

If Sherlock noticed John’s change of mood he didn’t comment.

John was sharing his heat with a compatible alpha and he’d never felt more alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on twitter @gizmotrinket221


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you [SherlocksSister](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SherlocksSister/pseuds/SherlocksSister) for betaing.

Sherlock could smell John’s scent grow deep and musky. There was a tinge to it that made Sherlock's nose itch. It was the same scent John had when he was thinking of his dead alpha. Sherlock didn’t know how to comfort him so he let John be. Better to let him work through it on his own than to say something to make it worse.

Sherlock always made it worse.

The scent faded as John lost his thought process in his heat.

Sherlock’s mouth watered. He needed to be human. If he didn’t transform it would be too easy to hurt his John in this form.

He changed, putting as much effort into turning as human as he could. He was disappointed he couldn’t get rid of his tail. He did manage to suppress the scales along his neck. If John wanted to bite him he could. 

But John rolled over, presenting from behind. The traditional submissive omega pose. Sherlock wanted John facing him, he wanted John to bite him, to be the feisty partner Sherlock had been looking for. Not some obedient weak little whelp.

It was early in the heat, Sherlock reasoned, there was plenty of time. 

Of course, the longer this went on the more likely Sherlock was to say something inexcusable. Then again, he had deduced John and John hadn’t been upset by it. Maybe, just maybe, there was still hope.

“Sherlock,” John purred, wiggling his arse.

Sherlock fell on him, touching every bit of him he could. John was cooler than him and slightly sweaty. Sherlock licked up John’s spine, savouring the taste of salt and skin.

John whimpered below him.

Sherlock reached around, tracing a hip before dragging his fingers through John’s coarse pubic hair. 

John arched his back and pushed into Sherlock as Sherlock grasped his penis.

“Sheeerl,” John mewled.

Sherlock loved the sounds John made. He could easily spend the rest of his life categorizing all the little sounds John made and learning all the ways to coax each and every one of them out of him.

He stroked John and John backed into him. Sherlock caught a whiff of John’s slick, the metallic tang made him groan.

“Mine!” Sherlock growled. 

He abandoned his plans for John’s cock and focused entirely on John’s slick leaking hole. Sherlock dove between John’s cheeks, one hand on each hip, thumbs making room for his face. He licked the slick straight from the source. 

John tried to wriggle away and Sherlock snarled, gripping his hips harder.

“Mine,” he reiterated. 

“Yours,” John said, lowering his head and arching his back.

Sherlock growled happily before stiffening his tongue and plunging it into John’s hole.

John cried out and Sherlock mentally noted it, it was a new sound, and it gave Sherlock a new idea.

He pulled back and pawed at John, manoeuvring him until he was on his back.

“Sherl?” John asked.

Sherlock ignored the stabbing feeling at John’s expression. John clearly had no interest in spending this wave of heat in this position. He distracted himself by diving for his prize.

“What are you--ah!” John shouted as Sherlock took his cock into his mouth.

“Oh, my god. Oh, my  _ god!” _ John said, his fingers curling into Sherlock’s hair.

Sherlock choked a bit when he tried to swallow the whole thing so he focused on the tip, wiggling the head from the foreskin and tasting every centimetre. When he licked the slit a new slightly bitter taste coated his tongue. 

He wanted to see what that tasted like combined with the metallic tang of John’s slick. He used his fingers as a scoop to grab some from John’s hole before pulling off his cock. He coated John’s cock in his slick before taking as much of it into his mouth as he could. 

“Mmm,” Sherlock hummed happily. Oh, yes, that was good.

John was thrashing above him, digging his fingers into Sherlock’s scalp.

He stuck his fingers into John’s arse to collect more and when he slid his digit against a little nub he got more of that bitter taste.

Sherlock pulled off, coated John’s cock in his slick once more before sticking his fingers into John’s arse again and seeking out the little nub.

“Gentle, Sherlock! Jesus!”

More carefully, Sherlock stroked the nub. 

John’s back arched and as Sherlock watched fluid beaded out of John’s cock.

“Mine!” Sherlock dove for it, licking up from the tip to the root and back as he massaged the spot in John that made him moan.

“Sher-- Sher-- I’m going to-- ah!” John pulled on Sherlock’s horns, pulling his head down to take more of his cock into his mouth.

Different salty bitter metallic fluid flooded Sherlock’s mouth.

Interesting.

Sherlock wanted to see if he could get it to happen again but John was pushing him back and complaining that he was sensitive.

John turned, rising up on shaking knees. “I need you in me,” he said.

Sherlock was happy to oblige.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks to [SherlocksSister](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SherlocksSister/pseuds/SherlocksSister) for the beta. Go check out her fics!

John couldn’t believe that Sherlock had sucked his cock. That was something beta couples did. He’d never seen the point of it before but now he did. It was incredible. 

Still, it didn’t stop the desire of heat.

John got to his knees. “I need you in me,” he said.

Sherlock’s cock nudged at John’s entrance and John pushed back into it. 

Finally, John felt Sherlock’s huge member fill him. He groaned in relief. John arched his back and rolled his hips. He felt Sherlock’s hot hands run along his flanks before gipping his hips. 

John mewled and Sherlock started thrusting. John slid forward and he clutched at the nest, matching Sherlock’s thrusts by rocking back into him. 

Sherlock cock was hard, long, thick and hot. John had never felt so full. He threw his head back and gasped. Soon sweat was dripping from his forehead. 

“Sherl!” John cried when he felt Sherlock’s tail wrap around his shoulder. 

Sherlock used his tail to pull John back onto him. John was nervous at first about the spines but Sherlock only had the flat smooth scales against John’s skin. The barbed tip was pressed flat against John’s neck.

_ Dangerous. _

John shivered then screamed when, with a mighty push, Sherlock thrust his knot into John. 

Sherlock snarled, “Mine!”

John came and he could feel Sherlock coming inside him. 

Carefully, Sherlock pulled and prodded at John until they were laying on their sides in the nest. 

John looked down to see Sherlock’s hand curled possessively around John’s slightly bulging stomach. John knew it was the amount of Sherlock’s semen and not any sign of pregnancy. It had been rare but it had happened once with Sholto and another alpha he’d spent his heat with. 

Sherlock’s chest was rumbling with contented happiness. It made John smile. John hadn’t been aware that dragons purred. He had never heard anything other than a cat purr. 

It made John realize that he didn’t know much about dragons at all. He’d thought they were greedy evil creatures who couldn’t think beyond fighting and gold lust. But, Sherlock had made a fire the human way. He was on a nest of comfortable bedding, not a hoard of hard metal and sharp gems. 

Were all dragons like Sherlock and he’d never gotten a chance to see another side of them? Or was Sherlock unique among dragons?

John didn’t know. What he knew was that after this heat he wasn’t sure he wanted to leave, to head back to the town or head to a new one to fight dragons once more.

Sherlock wiggled his hips and came again. It didn’t trigger an orgasm in John but John was used to such things. 

Apparently, Sherlock wasn’t. He reached around and stroked John’s cock. John couldn’t move much, knotted as he was but he still tried to thrust into Sherlock’s huge fist. He’d known that his cock could bring him pleasure but he’d never known how much. 

Could he go back to alphas--to a society--that thought omega pleasure was secondary and that omega cocks weren’t to be touched?

Sherlock’s grip was chafing so John pulled his hand away. He licked Sherlock’s palm before moving it back to his cock. Sherlock understood and instead of stroking John like he wanted he reached between them, taking some of John’s slick as lubricant. 

John groaned happily and twisted so he could nuzzle Sherlock’s chin as he stroked him. Sherlock rewarded the gesture by stroking harder and faster until his hand was a blur on John’s cock. 

It wasn’t long at all until John came with Sherlock’s name on his lips.

Yes, he could go back, he thought, but he really didn’t want to.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta by the amazing [SherlocksSister](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SherlocksSister/pseuds/SherlocksSister)

As the heat was winding down Sherlock panicked. John hadn’t bitten him back. It was looking like John wasn’t going to bite him back. And if John didn’t bite him back that meant John was going to leave and John couldn’t leave. He just couldn’t. 

Sherlock found him fascinating. He hadn’t interacted much with humans. He found them irrational. They were stupid herd creatures that had such short lives they were little different to cattle. The only reason Sherlock didn’t eat or menace them was because it wasn’t worth the hassle. He’d seen other dragons pillage towns, eat people and steal the little gold that humans hoarded and he’d seen them pay with their lives. Or have to move to stop the irritating human ants from bothering them. 

Sherlock was happy stealing livestock from small towns and keeping to himself. If he didn’t bother the humans too much, they didn’t bother him. And if he didn’t hoard a lot of gold, the other dragons left him alone too. No one wanted a dragon with a small hoard as a mate--they would have to split their hoard with them and dragons didn’t like to share, so they went after dragons with hoards bigger than their own. 

Occasionally dragons killed other dragons to take their gold and add it to their own. Sherlock was a strong enough dragon with a small enough hoard that no one thought it was worth the risk. 

He was happy being left alone with his experiments. 

Sometimes, other dragons would come to him with mysteries. He’d solved a case for his parents as a favour, to get them to leave him alone about having a brood. A dragon on the council had gone missing, hoard left intact. If the dragon had been killed by humans or another dragon, the hoard would be gone. If he had moved, or left with a mate, he would have taken his gold with him. 

Sherlock discovered that he’d taken a human form and moved into a human town to live with an omega. It was a huge scandal but it had bought Sherlock an entire century of peace.

Until now. Mycroft had come. He’d clearly gotten tired of their parents pushing him to find a mate. Soon, their attention would turn back to Sherlock.

They’d never accept a human. But John was the only mate Sherlock would ever want. 

John was perfect.

Sherlock brooded on this while John slept. His thoughts ran in circles as he watched John’s even breaths. 

Then, he heard the branches shift at the entrance of the cave. Whatever was moving them was big, the trees he’d used weren’t saplings. 

Sherlock shifted forms, either there was a bear out there, lured in by the scent of human omega in heat, thinking there was an easy meal to be found inside, or, there was a dragon.

Now that he was in his dragon form he had a more developed sense of smell. He took a deep breath as he moved in front of his omega. 

Not a bear, not a dragon,  _ humans. _

Were they knights, come to save John?

Sherlock took another deep breath, trying to smell as much as he could.

The humans smelled rank, and there wasn’t the smell of their armour. No, these humans weren’t knights. The way they were dragging the trees away meant they had some of the knight equipment. So, they weren’t townspeople either.

Sherlock snarled when he realized what they were.

“Sherlock?” John asked, waking up.

“Egg huntersss!” Sherlock hissed.

“Egg hunters?” John asked.

“Evil humansss, they come, kill dragonsss, sssteal eggs and raise whelpsss in ssslavery for war or cut them apart to sell the peicesss.”

John’s face lit with understanding before twisting in disgust. “Marauders.”

“Ssstay back,” Sherlock ordered.

He could hear John gathering his knight’s armour and his weapon. Sherlock didn’t want the fight to come to a point that it would be necessary for John to kill his own kind but the fact that he wouldn’t be defenceless was somewhat comforting.

Sherlock’s rut wasn’t over and he felt the need to mate war with his need to protect his mate. He shook his head to try and clear it as he heard the clattering of the stones as people walked through them.

He sniffed but their body odour was too strong to make out individual scents, he couldn’t tell how many there were. Which was probably the point.

Sherlock raised himself up and readied his breath weapon. 

A human came into view and Sherlock knew it was a trap, the others were waiting, hidden behind stone waiting for him to waste his weapon. After he did they’d strike. 

Instead of rising to the bait, Sherlock waited. He could see them, hiding in the dark, peeking around stalagmites, hissing curses at the human they’d sent forward to sacrifice. 

The human walked in, sword and shield held up but wavering in shaking hands. The man didn’t look like the other humans, he was probably a slave forced to do this against his will. 

Sherlock batted him aside as gently as he could when he got into range. If he lived through this fight Sherlock would let him “escape.” It was always good to spread rumours of how terrifying he was and how he’d killed the egg hunters. 

It was a waiting game after that, and Sherlock was patient. 

Suddenly, the cave was filled with the clatter of armour, swords glinting in the murky light, human words filling his ears as they echoed around his bolthole. The younger ones had banded together and were coming for him. Sherlock trampled and clawed those he could easily reach and it drew out the more seasoned fighters. Only then did Sherlock use his acid breath. 

Those that weren’t hit with it were close, one sliced Sherlock’s tail and died in the blood spray. The others started panicking. Sherlock picked them off one by one. He didn’t take joy in killing, but it was slightly amusing to watch the evil men panic.

That’s when he heard John shout.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to [SherlocksSister](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SherlocksSister/pseuds/SherlocksSister) for the beta

John watched Sherlock fight in awe. Sherlock was smart, he didn’t fall for the common tactics when dealing with humans. 

Unfortunately, the more advanced ones were working. Sherlock was being flanked. These marauders were smart and Sherlock, without realizing it, was losing. 

John snuck around, flanking the flankers silently. Then, when they were completely focused on Sherlock, John attacked with a fierce battle cry.

He took three out while they were caught off-guard. 

Sherlock turned at just the wrong moment and his arm was sliced by a sword--the swing just barely missing the delicate membrane of his wing. The enemy still attacking the bigger threat. 

Blood sprayed from the wound and John and the enemies around him were soaked. He could smell the sickly tang of acid so he thought he was done for and he closed his eyes, thankful that Sherlock knew of the attacker’s plans and would survive. 

The men before John screamed as they started to melt from the acidic blood and John realized nothing was happening to him. 

What was happening? John should be suffering the same fate but it was clear the acid had no effect on him.

Deciding not to look a gift horse in the mouth, John went on the attack. 

Together John and Sherlock were unstoppable and the marauders were defeated. 

The only invader left was the man they’d used as bait. John didn’t want to kill him, marauders didn’t give their slaves a choice. The man probably had a family that had been threatened. He was probably sacrificing himself to save them.

“We can’t let him go,” Sherlock said.

“Why not?!” John demanded. It wasn’t his fault he was here! With him alive, he might be able to appeal to the police--a separate quasi-military force that handled non-dragon crime--and save his family.

“If we don’t, he’ll tell everyone about you, how you ssspent your heat with a dragon. They’d kill you when you return to your town.”

John could smell the man was an alpha and knew that everything Sherlock said was true, but it wasn’t right!

“I’ll figure something out,” John said. He helped the quivering man to his feet and told him to leave. Sherlock didn’t stop him.

John heard stones clatter and then the sounds of him making his way through branches.

“I have to ssseal the cave, the heat isssn’t over,” Sherlock said. 

John nodded and watched as Sherlock picked up the corpses and carried them off before he lumbered over to fix the branches. John’s vision wasn’t good enough to watch Sherlock’s actions at the front of the cave but he trusted him not to kill the innocent man.

When Sherlock returned he was human again. He brought with him the smell of alpha, always strongest when he transformed and John found his mouth watering. Sherlock was fit and his impressive erection jutted in front of him.

Adrenaline still pumping through his veins, John licked his lips at the sight of Sherlock's strong body. Desire rushed through him, his own smaller cock filling in response to the sight of Sherlock's. He knew it wouldn't be long until the blind lust of heat gripped him again, and before it did, John had a question. An important one. 

"Sherlock, I--" But his Alpha cut him off. Sherlock had a question too.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes,” John said. The blood hadn’t burned him at all, though he did feel a bit itchy as it dried.

“You have just killed humans,” Sherlock said.

That gave John pause. He had. He’d vowed not to harm humans as part of his doctor’s oath. He’d broken that vow, but, found he didn’t care much.

“Yes,” John said with a nod. “That’s true.” He peered at Sherlock, wondering what the alpha thought of him now. The move hadn’t been very omega like.

Sherlock didn’t seem repulsed, in fact, he seemed proud. Perhaps he was like Sholto, thinking that a strong omega, more than able to protect himself, was sexy.

“But, they weren’t very good humans,” John said.

“True.”

The tension Sherlock held in his body disappeared and he leered at John, stalking up to him while licking his lips. 

John’s question popped back into his head and he asked it while he could still think.

“Why didn’t your blood kill me?”

Sherlock’s expression turned pensive and he stopped in his tracks.

“You seemed to be in pain when I bit your bonding gland. Perhaps that was your body reacting to the acid in my saliva. I’ve heard of dragon mates taking on properties of each other when two different types bond. In fact, it’s how my line became acid dragons. We used to be fire drakes. I’ve never heard of it happening with humans, but then, I’ve only heard of a human/dragon pairing once and didn’t take any interest in it.”

John mulled that over and decided that had to be it.

“If it bothers you, it’ll probably disappear when my bond bite fades away,” Sherlock said as if that were some sort of  consolation . As if John was upset about it instead of amazed.

John realized that he could bite Sherlock back without being harmed. It was possible to bond with Sherlock.

Was that something he wanted? He had no life to speak of with humans. The knights might have him back now that he didn’t have a limp, but could he kill dragons, knowing that at any time he might be sent out to kill Sherlock? Were there other dragons out there that were sentient? That had lives like humans? Could he do that?

No. 

Perhaps he could join the police and fight marauders. But, he might be assigned to a desk job, the police weren’t known for open-mindedness when it came to omegas--especially unbonded ones.

That was another thing, after knowing Sherlock John didn’t  _ want _ any other alpha. Sherlock was incredible. 

But, would Sherlock want him to stay in a cave and raise his offspring (what would those be like?) for the rest of his short life? Did Sherlock even want John to bite him back?

“I’m not going to get pregnant,” John blurted out.

Sherlock looked nonplussed by the change of subject for a second before smiling. 

“Good,” he said. “I don’t want whelps. I’ve never been interested in any sort of progeny.” His eyes light with a thought before he backtracked a bit. “Though, if that’s something you want--if it’s even possible--I could be persuaded.” He tacked on as if John didn’t already know, “With you, that is.”

Well, that answered John’s question about biting him back. He thought Sherlock might even be more gone on him than he was on Sherlock.

There was no future he wanted with humans. His future with Sherlock might be a big question mark but John thought, whatever Sherlock did all day, it wouldn’t be boring. (Though, that might just be his hormones talking.)

John felt his body prickle, his desire raising to a point that it was impossible to ignore. 

“This might be the last coupling. Will you bite me? I find the thought of leaving this cave without you… unacceptable,” Sherlock said. His body was thrumming with rut but John thought the flush on his cheeks had nothing to do with that.

“God, yes,” John said before diving at him.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [SherlocksSister](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SherlocksSister/pseuds/SherlocksSister) betad for me. Head over there and read some of her fics! :D

Sherlock took a risk, asking John to bond with him. He never would have had the courage to do so without the heat clouding his head. He wasn’t upset that his hormones were getting the best of him, in fact, he was quite glad for it. Though, he was a bit embarrassed.

John pulled Sherlock down on top of him and they rolled around, kissing and nipping at each other. 

Sherlock was amazed John had managed to get his armour on, considering the damage Sherlock had done to it. He was glad for it though, he’d seen a sword glance off of it. He’d been terrified. But, watching his John in action stirred something primal in Sherlock. He didn’t want whelps but knowing that John would be able to protect them-- that John could protect himself--made Sherlock want John more than ever.

And now, John had Sherlock pinned to the floor of the cave by his hips. He stripped his breastplate off, and Sherlock looked up at him.  John was covered in blood; sweaty, dirty, with feathers and straw in his hair, dried come and slick all over his belly and thighs, and Sherlock didn’t think he’d ever seen anything more beautiful. 

John scratched at his neck and Sherlock thought John could probably use a bath. He didn’t want John to wash off, but he also wanted John to be comfortable when they were locked together for their last mating this heat.

It gave Sherlock a little thrill knowing that this was not going to be their last mating ever.

John yelped when Sherlock sat up and stood with one hand under John’s arse and one hand supporting John’s back. John wrapped his legs around Sherlock’s hips and Sherlock groaned when John’s arse slid along Sherlock’s hard cock. John threw his head back and giggled as Sherlock carried him to the stream.

“Sherl,” John said as Sherlock sat down without letting him get to his feet. He wiggled in Sherlock’s lap and Sherlock shushed him.

It was one of the many times Sherlock wished black dragons still breathed fire. He could warm the water before he washed John. John was in the throes of heat, he was warmer than normal and, though he wasn’t Sherlock’s temperature, he was going to freeze.

Sherlock washed John reverently. He tried to warm the water in his hands but when that failed he climbed into the water with John, pressing his body to his to keep him warm.

Once John was clean Sherlock transformed into a dragon and back, using the waves of warm air as a dryer for his human. 

Sherlock put all his effort into being human and nearly managed it. He had no claws, scales or tail but his horns had stayed.

John didn’t seem to mind. He tackled Sherlock to the ground and straddled him. His mouth made a little “o” as he sunk onto Sherlock’s cock.

“God, that’s good,” John said. He smiled down at Sherlock before rising up a bit and sinking back down. 

Sherlock sat back and enjoyed the show. John wasn’t moving enough to push him over the edge so Sherlock was able to focus on John’s pink pebbled nipples, the way sweat gleamed on his body, how his cock bobbed and how he tightened his hole.

Soon John tired and Sherlock planted his feet on the ground. He bucked his hips and John fell forward. 

John gave him a kiss, Sherlock enjoyed licking the inside of John’s mouth and sucking on his tongue. They kissed until Sherlock’s knot started catching on John’s rim.

They were running out of time.

John realized this too and he moved his head to the side, licking and nipping along Sherlock’s neck. Sherlock was enjoying the sensation until John bit, hard.

Sherlock snarled in pain but John stayed latched on until he felt the bond growing between them. Only then did he move his mouth. 

They looked at each other in awe. Sherlock felt complete for the first time in his life.

“John,” Sherlock whispered.

“Sherlock,” John whispered back.

The smiled at each other before John lowered his head, kissing Sherlock. Even though it was faint Sherlock could taste the metal in John’s saliva. 

Together they rolled their hips, rocking into each other.

“Mine,” Sherlock panted when they broke apart.

“Mine,” John said challengingly. 

“Yours,” Sherlock agreed.

John beamed at him and Sherlock couldn’t take the slow pace any longer. He pounded into John, using one hand to push his hip up and down and the with the other he worked John’s cock.

Sherlock thrashed his head, he was so close!

John arched his back and came with a cry.

That did it. Sherlock was able to push his knot into John and he roared as he came. John came too, milking him.

John leaned back against Sherlock’s thighs.

“This is going to be uncomfortable for you, sorry,” he said.

“Why?” Sherlock asked.

“I’m going to have to sit on your hips until your knot goes down,” John said.

“So?” Sherlock asked, not seeing a problem. He might not have John pressed against him but he got to look at him.

“Won’t it be uncomfortable? I know I’ve lost some weight after losing my mate but I’m not light.”

Sherlock rolled his eyes. “John, I’m a dragon. You weigh nothing.”

“Oh, right,” John said before giggling.

As Sherlock watched him he couldn’t help but laugh too.

There was absolutely nothing he wouldn’t do for his John. He’d make sure they had the happily ever after the human fairy tales always talked about.

The way John was looking at him he knew that John felt the same. 

***

“What do we do now?” Sherlock asked when his knot went down.

“Go to your hoard,” John said as if it was obvious.

“What about after?” Sherlock said, worrying.

“We do anything we want, together.”

***

Sherlock set off on his new adventure, John riding on Sherlock’s back as he flew, happier than he’d ever felt. 

They were together. As long as they had each other they’d be fine. Better than fine. They’d be happy.

John let out a whoop as Sherlock caught an updraft and started giggling as Sherlock took sharp turns, playing in the currents.

Sherlock laughed with him.

Together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, folks, that's it for this story. Next, I'll be posting a little crack fic and after that, I'll be doing dragon!John. Subscribe to me for updates! <3

**Author's Note:**

> I'm @gizmotrinket221 on twitter and @theartone on tumblr


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